


All Stars In Skies

by myrmidryad



Series: RNM Week [5]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Injury, Jesse Manes Being an Asshole, Multi, Noah is still evil, Pod Squad - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-20 15:14:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19994308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrmidryad/pseuds/myrmidryad
Summary: What if the drifter had never attacked Isobel in the desert?





	All Stars In Skies

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: freaky Friday (character subversion/au)
> 
> These fics are getting longer and longer, I have a _problem_. 
> 
> Title from [Brother, Sister](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ccl37Zkjy0c) by Beta Radio, which is a VERY Pod Squad family feels song, thank you very much indeed to Haloud.

“That was the most boring birthday ever,” Isobel declared the morning after their fourteenth ‘birthday party’. “I hope by the time it’s your turn again, you’re sick of camping,” she told Michael, who made a face at her.

Knowing that she could have been at Kate Long’s party instead of sitting out in the desert with her idiot brothers while they did things like call her ‘extra annoying’ behind her back, as though tent walls were soundproof, was really just the icing on the cake.

“When it’s my turn next year,” she said, “we’re doing something _fun_.”

They were sixteen when Michael got his truck, and although Isobel thought it was the ugliest damn thing she’d ever seen, even she could admit that sitting in the truck bed with Max while Michael drove in bouncing, giddy circles and figures of eight out in the desert was fun. 

“It’s like a rollercoaster!” Max yelled, letting go of the side for a minute and getting bounced a full foot in the air. He shouted in pain and laughter when he fell back into the bed, and Isobel giggled hysterically.

“Faster, Michael!” she called, reaching back to bang her hand on the cab. “Faster!”

Michael whooped in sheer joy and sped up, and Isobel and Max screamed like they really were on a rollercoaster. 

It happened so fast that Isobel only realised what had happened when she landed on the ground and heard a horrible crack as her arm broke underneath her. Michael had hit a bump he hadn’t seen and Isobel had bounced right out of the truck. She sat up slowly and gasped in pain as her arm shifted. “Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit –”

“Isobel!” Max jumped out of the truck as Michael jerked it to a stop and skidded into the dirt next to her, his eyes wide. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

“My arm,” she whispered, and looked up as Michael ran over as well, shocked guilt written all over his face.

“Izzy, oh – I’m sorry! Are you hurt?”

Isobel felt herself start to cry, more out of shock than anything else. She’d never broken a bone before, never really been _hurt_ before, and it _did_ hurt, a steadily growing, throbbing agony coming from halfway down her forearm. She could see the odd angle of the bone underneath her skin, and started to shiver as Max very, very gently cradled her arm in his hands.

“It’ll be okay,” Michael was babbling. “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay, I’ll get some nail polish remover, they don’t take blood samples or anything when you break something at the hospital, our blood looks normal till you get it under a microscope. I broke my wrist when I was like, ten, it was fine! It’ll stop hurting, you’ll get a cool cast, it’ll be okay, Izzy, I promise!”

Isobel choked on her tears and then froze as Max frowned, and his hands began to glow red. Michael stopped talking mid-sentence, and they both stared as Max furrowed his brow and hissed through his teeth, his grip on Isobel tightening.

It should have hurt. It should have been horrifically painful, but it wasn’t. Isobel felt the bone move, and felt it straighten out. She didn’t feel it mend, but she knew it had happened, and as the glow of Max’s hands faded, she wiggled her fingers and gasped. “Oh my God.”

Max made a face, letting go of her hand, and she squeaked as he suddenly turned sideways and threw up.

“Shit!” Michael crashed to his knees next to them and wrapped an arm around Max’s shoulders, pulling him back. “Holy shit! Max, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Max groaned, and spat saliva onto the ground. “Ugh, gross.”

“You can heal,” Isobel realised, clenching and unclenching her fist. “Max! That’s your power! You can heal!”

“I thought electricity was his power,” Michael said, and grinned in relief when he saw her arm. “It’s totally better?”

“Yeah!” She waved her hand and laughed. “Good as new!”

“Damn! Max, how come you get two powers?”

“Because electricity sucks,” he huffed, leaning into Michael’s side. “Whoa, I feel like crap.”

“You got any…?” Isobel mimed tipping a bottle back, and Michael nodded. 

“Glove compartment.”

She scrambled to her feet and wiped her face as she rushed to the truck. Her face was sticky and wet, but her arm was healed and painless. There were two bottles of nail polish remover in Michael’s glove compartment, and she brought both of them as she hurried back, and passed one to Max.

“Your arm’s okay?” he asked after he’d taken a couple of gulps.

“Like it was never broken.” She crouched down in front of him and threw her arms around him, catching Michael in the embrace as well. “You’re amazing!”

“That’s a real superhero power, dude,” Michael agreed. “And definitely way cooler than making the lights flicker when you’re horny.”

“Oh, gross!” Isobel shoved him away, and Michael sprawled cheerfully in the dirt. Isobel hugged Max tighter and smiled when he hugged her back. “Seriously, Max,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

Isobel was in her bedroom, writing in her diary when sudden, awful pain erupted through her mind. She cried out and dropped her pen, pressing her hands to her temples. 

_Michael._

Her parents were still downstairs, watching TV. It was only eight in the evening, and Max was still out, and he had the Jeep. Isobel scrambled for her phone and called Michael first, panic setting her heard racing. His phone rang, and he didn’t answer. She tried Max next, and he didn’t answer either. Furious, she squeezed her eyes shut and reached out for him, trying to mentally scream at him to pick up as she rang him again.

The dial tone in her ear was cut off as he picked up, Max gasping on the other end of the line. “Iz, what the hell? Are you okay?”

“It’s Michael,” she said, voice tight. “He’s in trouble, where are you?”

“The gazebo, in town.” He sounded bewildered. “Was that him or you just now?”

“Both of us, I don’t know! We need to find him!”

“Where is he?”

Right. She closed her eyes and concentrated. “Near…near Stiles Park? A parking lot.”

“Mesa Verde Apartments are near Stiles Park,” Max said, and she opened her eyes. “It’ll be faster for me to run there. You wanna meet me there?”

“Yeah.” Isobel shoved her feet into her sneakers. 

“Can you tell Michael we’re coming?”

“You know it doesn’t work like that,” she snapped. “Just hurry!”

“You got it.” He hung up, and she ran out of her room and sprinted down the stairs.

“I’m going out,” she called to her parents, thinking quickly. “Melissa just got dumped, I might miss dinner!”

“Oh no!” Her mom twisted around on the sofa to frown. “Bring her back if she needs the company, okay?”

“Thanks, mom!” Isobel let the door slam behind her and started to run. Two minutes later she had to slow down to a frantically fast-paced powerwalk. Gym had never been her best class. She sped up again once she’d gotten her breath back, and she was on Wyoming Avenue when she heard someone shout her name from behind her.

“Isobel!” 

“Max!” She paused to let him catch up, and they jogged the rest of the way together. The whole time, Isobel felt Michael in her head, hurting and hurting. She was nearly in tears by the time they finally sprinted over the little grass bank that separated the road from the parking lot, Michael’s ugly truck parked in an unobtrusive corner at the far end.

He was hunched in the driver’s seat, shoulders heaving and blood all over his shirt, his hand – his hand – 

“Oh my God,” Max whispered as Isobel yanked the door open and pushed herself up to wrap an arm around Michael.

“Michael! We’re here, it’s gonna be okay – Max! Heal him!”

“Gimme your hand, man.” Max reached out but Michael pulled away, shaking his head.

“Can’t,” he breathed, and Isobel saw how wet his face was when he looked at them. “Witnesses. Can’t explain…fuck, oh fuck…”

Isobel saw the empty bottle of nail polish remover on the seat next to Michael and squeezed his shoulders. “Move up. Come on, we’re getting you to a hospital.”

“I don’t have insurance.” Michael started to properly cry. “I can’t, I don’t have the money, Iz, I don’t even have a fucking home.”

He shuffled along when Isobel kept shoving him though, and she pushed all the way to the far side to make room for Max to get in. “Keys, Michael,” she said, arm still tight around his shoulders. “Where’re your keys? And what the hell do you mean, you don’t have a home?” She knew the rumour that he lived in his truck, but he’d laughed it off when she’d asked, telling her he just kept all his stuff with him so no one at the group home would steal it.

“I don’t…ah!” He bit off a gasp of pain as he moved his hand into his lap. Isobel couldn’t bring herself to look at how bad the damage was.

“Got ‘em,” Max said, and turned the engine over. “We’ll find the money, Michael, we’ll do it together.”

“From where?” Michael spat, and Isobel exchanged a frightened look with Max. “Your parents? They won’t pay for hospital bills for a kid they don’t even know!”

“We’ll make whoever did it pay!” Max said furiously. “Who did this to you, Michael?”

Michael laughed, an awful, sobbing sound that made Isobel hold him even tighter against her. “Good luck getting Master Sergeant Manes to pay for this. Let me know how that goes, Max.”

“Master Sergeant…” Isobel looked at Max, who looked as flabbergasted as she was.

“Alex Manes’ dad? What the hell, Michael? Why’d he attack you?”

But Michael shook his head, and Isobel gave Max a look when he opened his mouth to ask more questions. “It doesn’t matter. We have to go to a hospital, Michael, this is really bad.”

“They’ll ask questions.” Michael took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to stop crying. “And I can’t afford it, we can’t.”

“Then we’ll do it ourselves.” Max set his jaw and reversed out of the bay.

“Do it ourselves?” Isobel gaped at him. “Are you serious? You want us to perform _hand surgery_ on Michael?”

“Fingers don’t usually need surgery,” Max said, sounding way too calm. “Same with toes. The bones are so small the most they do is splint them and wait for them to heal themselves. We’ll play the long game, okay? We’ll clean up Michael’s hand and set the bones as best we can right now, and then when it’s healed up a bit, I’ll fix it properly. No one will know.”

“You’re insane!” Isobel hissed, but Michael was nodding.

“It’ll work. Fuck, God.” He curled over with a choked noise, and Isobel braced herself against him as they turned the corner. “Where are we going?”

“Drug store,” Max said shortly. “You need more nail polish remover, and we need bandages.”

Orange light from the setting sun poured in through the windows, and Isobel finally looked at Michael’s hand, her stomach turning over at the sight. However he’d done it, Alex’s dad had wrecked Michael’s hand. There was blood smeared everywhere, dark red trails running down Michael’s wrist. The bones in Michael’s pinkie and ring finger were showing through the broken skin, and the knuckles that attached them to Michael’s hand looked swollen and wrong.

“What did he do?” Isobel whispered, Michael’s hair pressed against her face. “How did he do this?”

“Hammer,” Michael whispered back, and Isobel held her breath through a wave of rage so strong it almost made her scream.

“I’ll fucking kill him,” she breathed, and Michael hiccupped, trying to laugh.

“Thanks, Iz.”

He didn’t think she was serious, but she felt the cold edge of her fury and folded it inwards, tucking it away for later. She didn’t need telekinesis or electric shocks. She was going to get inside Master Sergeant Manes’ mind and turn his brain to fucking pudding for hurting her brother.

She stayed in the truck with Michael when Max parked very illegally outside the 24/7 drugstore and ran in. “He’s gonna look so weird,” she muttered. “Buying like, five bottles of nail polish remover and a load of bandages.”

Michael sniffed, still not able to laugh. “Sorry I ruined your evening.”

“Excuse me?” she made an angry noise. “Are you stupid now? Your hand is _broken_ , Michael. What were we gonna do, leave it till the weekend?” And if Max looked weird going in there and buying nail polish remover and bandages, what would Michael have looked like, covered in blood with such a visible injury? Their whole MO was flying under the radar and not attracting attention, and that would have been pretty much the opposite of that.

Max emerged from the drugstore with a carrier bag and a huge bottle of water, staggering from the weight of it. He barely managed to get it into the truck bed, and Isobel gave him a confused look when he got back in the cab. “What’s the water for?”

“Cleaning the wounds. I got a bunch of other stuff too. Did you know you can buy finger splints?” He turned the engine over and started driving. 

“Where’re we going?” Isobel asked.

“Outta town. I figured…” Max glanced over nervously. “It’s probably gonna hurt, so we don’t want anyone hearing it if he screams.”

It was a smart decision. They drove out past Sanders’ Auto and a few miles further, and when they guessed they’d gone far enough, they did the best they could with Michael’s hand. Michael tried to stay quiet, and shoved a balled-up t-shirt in his mouth, but he still screamed when Max moved his bones into approximately the right places.

Isobel held him still, his head tucked against her shoulder, and helped him finish off all five bottles of nail polish remover when they were done. They all huddled in the truck bed afterwards, Michael’s arm in a sling against his chest, shivering between her and Max as the sky darkened from dusky blue to black.

“He caught me with Alex,” Michael told them quietly. “That’s why he did it.”

Isobel breathed out slowly, but Max looked at Michael with a frown. “Caught you with him? Isn’t he allowed to have friends over?”

“You idiot,” Isobel said flatly. “He means caught together as in _caught together_ , Max, God.”

“What, like…” Max blinked, leaning forward to look between them. “You and Alex? I didn’t even know you guys knew each other.”

Michael shrugged, looking utterly miserable, and Isobel sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “How long’s it been going on?”

“Not long.” Michael sniffed and wiped at his nose. “Only kissed him for the first time today.”

“Shit.” Max slumped back into place against Michael’s side. “And his dad broke your hand.” Isobel could actually hear him swallow in the silence that followed. “What did he do to Alex?”

“I don’t know,” Michael said, even quieter. “He said if he ever saw me round his house again he’d kill me. Alex told me to go.”

“You think he’d hurt Alex?” Isobel frowned, and felt an awful resignation from Max. “Seriously? His own kid?”

“Alex hates his dad,” Max said. “Everyone knows that.”

“Yeah, but…”

“We’ll find out,” Max told Michael. “I’ll go over his house tomorrow and pretend to borrow something. And he’ll be in class on Monday for sure, he never misses school.”

“You’ll do that?” Michael sounded so bewildered, and Isobel would have smacked him if he hadn’t been screaming in pain just half an hour earlier.

“You’re our brother, idiot,” she settled for saying. “Obviously we’re going to help you. That’s what family’s _for_.”

Isobel got her chance at graduation. 

She’d stayed out of Alex’s mind at Michael’s insistence, even when Alex had done nothing but avoid him since the Hand Incident, as they were now calling it, so she didn’t know exactly what threat Master Sergeant Manes was holding over Alex’s head. She just knew there had to be something.

Max knew her plan, though he didn’t really like it. She didn’t even have a solid idea of what she wanted to do, but she wanted to get in Master Sergeant Manes’ head and do _something._ No one hurt her brother and got away with it.

Especially when said brother had seen Master Sergeant Manes among all the other parents and gone literally grey, turning to hide the way his arm was still in a sling.

Isobel waited until the speeches started, then took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Master Sergeant Manes was in the crowd behind her, and it was easy to find him and let the real world melt away. When she opened her eyes, she was alone, and when she stood up and turned around, she could see Master Sergeant Manes sitting at the end of a row near the back, uniform perfectly pressed, face impassive. The world glimmered around them as Isobel walked over. If she hit him here, would he feel it?

He looked up at her with chipped-ice eyes, and she glared down at him. She knew why he’d hurt Michael, but there were other things she wanted to know too. “Why are you making Alex avoid Michael?”

“Because his perversions cannot be allowed to continue.” He looked up at her blankly. “It’s a weakness, and it’s disgusting. I won’t allow any son of mine to engage in practices like that. He’ll enlist, and the Air Force will straighten him out. It’s his last chance. His mother won’t have him, and he can’t survive on his own.”

Isobel made a face. It wasn’t exactly surprising, but it was horrible to hear it. “ _How_ are you making him avoid Michael?”

“If he goes anywhere near that boy, I’ll do worse than break his hand.” There was a pulse of dark, savage anger, and Isobel felt a chill of real fear for the first time. 

“What will you do?”

Master Sergeant Manes’ lip curled. “Michael Guerin,” he said, the words dripping with derision, “has no fixed abode and no family. No one will care if he disappears.”

“I’ll care,” Isobel said furiously. “You asshole! Max will care!” Predictably, Master Sergeant Manes just gazed at her in silence. “God, you’re so…okay. Okay.” How could she play this? She opened her eyes in the real world and frowned at the stage. Barely any time had passed, and she had to wait for minutes and minutes before there was a break for applause.

“He told Alex he’ll kill Michael if he doesn’t stay away from him,” she whispered to Max as quickly and quietly as she could. “He’s forcing Alex to enlist.” She felt bad for Alex, sure, but it was more the prospect of telling Michael that she’d been in Master Sergeant Manes’ head and _not_ tried to help his one-day-boyfriend that had her concerned for the guy’s welfare.

“Ask him what would make him change his mind?” Max suggested as the applause died down.

Isobel bit her lip, but closed her eyes and gave it a shot. Too keyed up to wait for another round of applause, she nudged Max’s leg to get his attention a moment later and breathed, “No go. He says Alex is joining the Air Force or hitting the streets.”

“Shit.”

“Did my best,” Isobel whispered, and closed her eyes again. If she couldn’t help Alex, she could at least satisfy a little of her own need for revenge. It took a while, and she was sweating heavily under her gown by the time she was done, but she gave Max a savage little smile and settled in to wait.

It was awful, but there was a tiny, selfish part of her that was glad for the opportunity to work with her brothers on something important that was bringing them together. As horrific as it had been, bandaging and splinting Michael’s broken hand had been a hell of a bonding experience, and it had settled something in her that had been wobbling over the last few months.

Michael was going to UNM, and Max was going on his European road trip – or possibly his American road trip now he and Liz seemed to be getting together, which Isobel was heroically trying not to be angry about. She knew she was being irrational, that her brothers weren’t abandoning her, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault that they’d both stumbled into romance in the same week while she was still single with exactly zero prospects, but still. Still.

It was good to be reminded that no matter what, they were on this planet together. Albuquerque was only three hours away when the traffic was good, and Max would be coming back after the summer because he hadn’t decided what to do about college yet. She wouldn’t be alone for long.

Midway through the principal’s speech, Isobel completely failed at biting back her grin when Master Sergeant Manes stood up and stayed standing, stock still as people started to mutter. Isobel only let herself turn when she saw a couple of other people do it, and she swallowed a sound of pure, vindictive glee as she saw just how many other people were staring too. The Master Sergeant was glaring at the principal, who looked – Isobel checked – slightly perturbed, but was valiantly continuing with his speech about how great their graduating year was.

“They’re soft,” Master Sergeant Manes said suddenly, loud enough that Isobel, right down at the front, could hear him. There were gasps. From her fellow students there were giggles. Everywhere, there were whispers.

“Holy shit.”

“What the hell is he doing?”

“What does he think –”

And finally, perfectly: “Is he _drunk?_ ”

“Soft little children,” Master Sergeant Manes said, and shook his head in disgust, finally starting to move out into the aisle. “All of you – none of you understand – all this pageantry, when the real threat can’t be combatted by spoilt brats like these. You’re not ready! None of you are, you’re all ignorant fools.” He shook his head again as he reached the aisle, mouth twisted in a dark sneer. “You’re all so worried about the threat from overseas, when the real monsters will come from the sky.” He made a final noise of revulsion, and stalked out.

The principal had trailed off, but he cleared his throat and looked down at whatever notes he had. “Uh, um. Ah, well. As I was saying…”

Isobel wasn’t the only one shaking with mirth. She could see Jessica Lowe with her hand pressed over her mouth and nose as she went bright pink with laughter, the girls either side of her giggling as well. Muffled sounds of amusement and disquiet filled the air, and Isobel drank it in, probably more smug than she had ever been in her life. She knew very well how reputation was everything in their small town. This was going to be discussed for months, probably years to come at places like her mom’s bridge club and in hair salons and at PTA meetings. No one would ever be able to talking about Master Sergeant Manes without hearing someone say, “Do you remember the time at his son’s graduation…” The rumours would fly thick and fast. Isobel gave it a week before the general consensus settled on either drink or pills as the cause.

Her smile for the cameras as she collected her diploma and shook hands with the principal was knife-sharp, and she grinned when she found Michael after they’d all tossed their caps in the air. “Was that you?” he asked, wide-eyed, and laughed disbelievingly when she just waggled her eyebrows. “How the hell?”

“Later,” she said, mindful of all the people around them. Lots of people had cameras, and she made sure there were several photos taken of her with Max and Michael, the two of them standing either side of her as usual. She always felt like she was in the centre of the universe when she stood between them, like she was in exactly the right place.

When they were twenty, Michael found another alien.

Isobel was perfectly happy with her life of pretending to be a human. She and Rosa had finally scraped up enough money to move into a shitty two-bed apartment and had figured out a list of roommate rules that meant they wouldn’t murder each other. She genuinely enjoyed her job at Linda’s Bridal. She was thinking of taking a Business course at the community college. Michael visited at least once a month, and Max had just graduated from the academy to become one of the youngest officers on the local police force.

And then Michael went and found a fourth alien, and somehow freed it from the pod it had been trapped in.

“He hasn’t said anything,” Michael told them in the cave where he’d found the pod, standing nervously in front of the unfamiliar alien, “but I figure that’s kind of like us, right? We didn’t speak for ages either, so it doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand us, necessarily. He’s probably just…absorbing the language or whatever.”

The alien looked a little older than them, but not by much. He had darker skin, a narrow, objectively handsome face, and he was wearing a set of Michael’s clothes, bare feet getting dirty on the cave floor.

“How did you find him again?” Max found his words first, and Isobel grimaced at the barely-restrained anger in his voice.

“I was looking.” Michael swallowed. “Just…exploring, a bit.”

“You’re lying.” 

Michael glanced behind him at the alien and shifted in front of him a little more, blocking him from Max’s view. “I’ve been combing this area my whole life, Max. I was bound to find him eventually.”

“Combing the area?” Isobel cut in, confused. “Why?”

“It’s near where we crashed.” Michael turned to her, palms open. “I’ve found things before, I was just widening the net a little. I come down most weekends, check over a new quadrant, tick it off the list.”

“A new _quadrant?_ ” Max sounded thunderous, and Isobel reacted instinctively, stepping between them with her hands up.

“Okay, calm down. Look, we can take him back to my place, we can’t stay here.”

“Your place?” Max raised his eyebrows, incredulous. “What the hell are we gonna say to Rosa?”

“Michael found him wandering the desert,” she shrugged. “He won’t speak to us in English or Spanish, he’s obviously an undocumented immigrant from _somewhere_ south of the border, and he needs help. She’ll understand, her dad’s undocumented too.”

“There’s a big difference between undocumented from Mexico and undocumented from _space_ , Isobel!”

“Is there?” She’d heard Rosa’s furious tirades on the issue often enough to feel a bit more confident on the subject than Max. “Undocumented is undocumented. And he doesn’t have the advantages we did.”

“Advantages?” Max spluttered.

“We were kids! We were sucked into the system right away, and no one even considered that we weren’t from this country, because we’re all white!” Isobel gestured to the fourth alien, who didn’t move. “He doesn’t have that on his side.”

“Might be better to keep him out of sight till he can speak,” Michael frowned worriedly. 

“That could take months. Mom says we didn’t speak for ages after she adopted us.” Isobel shook her head. “We can’t keep him in a cave, it isn’t humane. Or possible – you’re at college all week, and Max and I have jobs.”

“Okay.” Michael looked at Max, sucking his lower lip between his teeth and hesitating. “Max?”

Max looked between them all for several long seconds, then sighed. “He’s gonna need a name. And I’m nowhere near out of questions,” he added to Michael, who nodded seriously.

Back in Isobel and Rosa’s apartment, it all came out. Michael had never stopped searching for clues to their past, and he’d even found pieces of what he was pretty sure was their ship. He was keeping everything in an abandoned fallout shelter under Sanders’ Auto Yard, where he’d picked up work in high school and continued to do so when he came back over the summer.

If Isobel was hurt that he’d kept it all a secret, Max was distraught. “I thought we told each other everything, man,” he said, shoulders sagging. “Why didn’t you say?”

“Never attract attention,” Michael muttered, avoiding both their eyes. “Y’know? Don’t rock the boat.”

“With other people,” Isobel said, crossing her arms. “Not with us.”

“I know, but…” Michael sighed and gestured at them. “It’s different for you. You have lives here.”

“What, and you don’t?” Isobel glanced at the as-yet-unnamed-alien and jerked forward to stop him picking up the sketchbook Rosa had left on the couch. “Whoa, cowboy, no touchie.”

“You have a life in Albuquerque,” Max agreed, frowning at Michael like he was seeing him for the first time.

“No, I have college in Albuquerque,” Michael corrected. “I have classes. I don’t have friends, or…anything like that. You have Liz,” he told Max. “Even if she is in Dallas. And Iz has Rosa and a bunch of other friends, and you both, you both have your parents.”

“Is that what this is about?” Isobel asked, taken aback, and felt the unspoken _yes_ even as Michael shook his head so hard his hair bounced.

“No, no, I’m just saying, you both have way more of a foundation here than I do, and I didn’t wanna, I don’t know, I know you both want to blend in, and I’ve just never been as good at it as you have.” He always talked faster when he was upset, gesturing to make himself seem bigger, shoulders squared like he was expecting a fight.

“Idiot,” Isobel said, cutting off whatever Max had just opened his mouth to say. He gaped at her.

“Iz!”

“Well he is.” She scowled and stepped forward to yank Michael into a not entirely friendly hug. “You’re an _idiot_ , Michael. We’re in this together, all of us. You think we ever forget what we really are?” She pulled back and tilted her head towards Max, holding Michael’s stunned gaze. “You think it doesn’t kill me that I can’t tell my best friend the truth?”

“And Liz,” Max added softly. “I know I can never tell her. We’re all each other have, man. You don’t have to do any of this on your own.”

“Think how much faster we could’ve ‘combed’ your stupid quadrants if you’d let us help,” Isobel snorted, letting go of Michael and subtly gesturing Max in to hug him too, which he did. “We might’ve found E.T. over there years ago if you’d told us what you were doing.” She jumped in again to stop said alien from opening a bottle of Rosa’s meds. “Whoa whoa whoa, put those down, buddy. Jesus, it’s like having a toddler.”

Michael snorted, and the tension broke. “He’s a pretty good-looking toddler, gotta give the guy that.” He finally smiled, looking between them. “When he starts speaking…guys, he’ll be able to tell us about where we come from.”

“Yeah.” Max looked like he’d just realised that, and stared at the fourth alien with a sort of wonder in his eyes. “Wow, yeah, he will.”

The first thing the fourth alien said to them was, “Call me Noah.” 

The last thing was a scream as Max sucked the life right out of him with a hand on his chest, fighting to do it faster than Noah was doing it to him.

“I want to tell Alex.”

The silence fell like a lead weight, and Isobel reached instinctively for Rosa’s hand. Michael kept his head bent for a second, then lifted it with a combative look on his face. Liz glanced at Max, but Max only had eyes for Michael. It was hard to believe that a moment ago they’d all been enjoying a drink around Max and Liz’s fire pit, and now…this.

“Okay,” Liz said delicately. “Why don’t we talk about this for a second?”

“He’s only been back in town a few weeks,” Max said, apparently not hearing her. He couldn’t have sounded more disbelieving if he’d tried, and Isobel winced. “Are you insane?”

“You have Liz,” Michael snapped. “Isobel has Rosa.”

“To be fair,” Rosa said, sardonic as always, “it would’ve been pretty hard to keep it from me after Noah tried to murder me for not being into guys.” Isobel squeezed her hand tighter, and Rosa squeezed back, though her expression didn’t change. It was typical Rosa, to be so casual about it in front of other people when she still occasionally had nightmares that Isobel had to wake her up from.

“We might never have told them if we hadn’t had to,” Isobel agreed, leaning forward to put her beer down. “Michael, this isn’t something you can take back. And don’t bite my head off, but Max is right – Alex has only been back in town a few weeks, and you two haven’t even been on a date.” She would have heard about it if they had. Nothing travelled faster in Roswell than gossip, and gossip about two romantically involved men, one of them decorated airman Alex Manes, would have reached her at warp speed.

“He’s still scared of his dad hurting me.” Michael ground the words out like they were personally offensive. “Even though he hasn’t been shit around here since his meltdown at our graduation. And it hasn’t been weeks, okay? It’s been longer than that.”

“How long?” Isobel frowned, and Liz raised her eyebrows.

“Alex has never come back here. Not even on leave, he hates this town. He told me he wouldn’t have come back at all if he hadn’t been assigned to our base.”

“Avoiding daddy dearest,” Rosa sneered, and Michael nodded.

“Pretty much. But, uh. We’ve met up a few times.” He looked down. “Not in Roswell.”

“Where?” Liz asked, goggling, and Michael rubbed the back of his neck.

“Albuquerque, and Phoenix, and Tampa one time.”

One day, Isobel was going to stop being upset when she found out Michael had been keeping secrets again. It was like a compulsion for him. Rosa always told her to ease up about it, that secrets made people feel safe sometimes, but it still hurt to feel like Michael didn’t trust them.

“You dog.” Liz laughed and reached out to punch his arm, and Michael cracked a small, embarrassed smile. “Oh my God. Has it been a relationship? Or just hook-ups?”

“Both. Neither.” Michael sighed and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Nothing till Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was repealed. We’d talk a bit when we were together, but…”

“Mostly you’d not talk?” Rosa smirked, laughing when Isobel made a disgusted sound and elbowed her.

“That’s my _brother_ you’re talking about.”

“I’m not wrong though, am I?” She grinned, and Michael huffed.

“Not really. It’s been different since he got back though. Better and worse. I just…” He shook his head and sat back in his chair. “I hate lying to him. I hate it. I don’t wanna do it anymore.”

“He’s an airman though,” Max said after a long pause. “He’s a Captain. I know he’s a good guy, but if he feels like his loyalty is being torn, it could destroy everything for us.”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Michael sounded absolutely certain, to an almost casual degree. Like he was stating a fact like the colour of the sky or the number of planets in the solar system. “I know him, okay? And he’s…he’s the only person who’s ever made me believe there could be a place for me here.” It took a lot for him to say that, Isobel could tell, and she squeezed Rosa’s hand, recognising the sentiment.

“I say tell him,” Rosa said, breaking the sombre silence that followed Michael’s declaration. “Worst case scenario? We all get exposed, Liz and I get packed off to military prison or something, you guys get locked in a lab for a bit. The Alighting’s gonna happen sooner rather than later, it’s gonna be less than ten years by Noah’s reckoning, and then they bust you out and we can chill again.”

“The way you’re so flippant about imprisonment and torture worries me,” Isobel told her frankly, and Rosa grinned.

“What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”

It was kind of inevitable, Isobel thought hysterically a couple of weeks later, that Alex Manes had managed to completely one-up Michael’s confession by telling him that not only did he know what they were, but that his family had been involved with the crash site since 1947. And in a way, it made total sense that Kyle Valenti had to get involved too. Everything came down to family in the end. Her, Max, and Michael, the Maneses, and the Ortechos.

“Kyle’s a Valenti,” Rosa told her dryly when she voiced that, and Isobel scowled.

“He’s your brother, he’s basically an Ortecho.”

Rosa just threw back her head and laughed. The way she laughed at misfortune and danger was one of the things Isobel had always loved about her, and it was comforting now, especially when they found out exactly what Jesse Manes’ involvement had entailed, and Isobel’s guilt rapidly spiralled out of control.

She should have known, when she’d gotten into his head in senior year. She should have asked more questions.

“Can’t change the past,” Liz said, pragmatic as ever. “Only the future.”

It was awful, going through the files Alex unearthed. Project Shepherd, as it was known, had been defunded in 2010, only two years after Master Sergeant Manes’ outburst at his youngest son’s graduation had gotten him removed as its chief supervisor. His comments about monsters from the sky had been taken as a serious breach of security protocol, and his career had never recovered. The project had floundered, and been shut down entirely after the money was stopped.

There had been a facility called Caulfield only miles outside Roswell, where survivors of the crash had been imprisoned and experimented on for decades. They had all been killed – terminated – when the project had ended. 

Isobel got the information second-hand. She couldn’t read any files that spoke in such clinical, detached terms about people like her being tortured and killed. Max read some. Michael read them all.

It was Rosa who pulled her out of it. Rosa, who knew all too well about the tricks the mind could play on a person, who recognised Isobel’s self-loathing because she’d been there herself. Isobel didn’t know what she’d have done without her, and told her so.

Rosa always smiled, dark eyes warm. “Just make sure you take me with you if you get beamed up,” she said. “Or stay here with me.”

“Nothing’s taking me away from you,” Isobel promised her, and for the first time, she felt like both Max and Michael were on her side with those commitments. Max had only ever wanted to stay, more than happy to blend in and make a life with Liz, and Michael had only ever wanted to leave, desperate to find the home he’d never been offered on Earth. 

Isobel had always fallen somewhere between the extremes, and now both her brothers did too. The Caulfield files had opened Max’s eyes to the reality of his belonging to another world as well as Earth. There had been dozens of other aliens on their ship alone, all with different faces and powers and, presumably, names and histories, though the files didn’t include those. And Alex had grounded Michael in a way nothing else ever had, giving him the home he craved in the form of himself rather than any physical place.

From Noah, Isobel knew that their home world considered all three of them royalty, and they would one day be sought out for that. Whether it was to be killed or crowned, they would be ready for it.

**Author's Note:**

> If it weren't for the fact that I had to finish this today (and technically failed because it's almost 2am), this would definitely have spiralled into a gigantic multi-chap behemoth because restraint is not something I know how to exercise, apparently. [Find me on tumblr!](http://myrmidryad.tumblr.com)


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